


two more bottles of wine

by pec



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Yorozuya Family, idefk i wrote this for taksugi's bday, smidgeon of sakamoto and zura, tiny cameos from bansai and matako
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7738873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pec/pseuds/pec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a well-known fact to Gintoki that a certain amount of alcohol makes Takasugi docile and painfully honest towards him. It's amusing that he doesn't behave the same way with anyone else; he's tight-lipped and moody at best around others. But when drinking with Gintoki, he's downright embarrassing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two more bottles of wine

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to charlie for reading over this <3 
> 
> disclaimer: i do not own. gorilla does.

It's a well-known fact to Gintoki that a certain amount of alcohol makes Takasugi docile and painfully honest towards him. It's amusing that he doesn't behave the same way with anyone else; he's tight-lipped and moody at best around others. But when drinking with Gintoki, he's downright embarrassing. 

For instance, that time during the Joui War when Sakamoto makes them visit the red light district, and Takasugi goes off with a girl that Gintoki had eyes on. An hour later, when Sakamoto and Gintoki come back to pick up Takasugi, his face is flushed and he can barely walk on his own. Gintoki drapes his arm over his shoulder, while Sakamoto goes back to chitchat with the ladies. 

“You got completely shit-faced,” says Gintoki with disgust. “Did you even pay any attention to that bombshell of a woman? Did you at least grope her ass?” 

Takasugi raises his unfocused eyes to Gintoki's face and grins. 

“I'd rather be gropin' you,” he slurs out. 

There it is. The spilling of shameless words with no regard of consequences or implications. And definitely no plans to follow through. 

“Really?” says Gintoki. Takasugi chuckles, his breath reeks of alcohol. Gintoki removes Takasugi's arm from his shoulder and lets him fall in a heap on the ground. 

The next morning, however, Gintoki doesn't miss any chance of reminding a furiously reddened Takasugi of his drunken words. 

“Psst. Wanna cop a feel?”

“Shut your mouth or I'll punch you.”

 

There are times, much, much later, when Takasugi separates Gintoki from their group and just talks to him about things he'd never talk about sober. It's less flirting and more reminiscing but still quite awkward. 

They're in a pub with Bansai and Matako seated in the very back of the room and Sakamoto and Zura singing karaoke in horribly screeching voices broken with inebriated laughter. Gintoki watches his two friends for a while before Takasugi comes stumbling to his table and reaches for his bottle of beer. 

“Oi.” Gintoki grabs the bottle away from him. “Get yer own.” 

“What's the difference? Yours, mine, it's still beer.” Takasugi rests his face in his palm and stares at Gintoki. “We can share, just like we share... goals.” 

Gintoki braces himself; Takasugi is in one of those moods, where he rambles on and on about jumbled topics without really reflecting on his words. It's been a lon time since he has seen him like this. Well, it's been a while since he's seen him _at all_. 

“You've got your way of doing things an' I've my own plans,” says Takasugi, “but we strive to come to the same conclusion.” 

Gintoki takes a sip of his beer while Takasugi chews on some _ika ten_. Neither speaks for a while, letting the amicable silence fall between them. Gintoki casts an eye on Takasugi's boduguards (or so the two seem to him) and sees them watching him, probably wondering about the nature of their conversation. 

When Takasugi talks again, it's of the past. He recounts his anger and confusion before he fought Gintoki, his hurt and regret during the Joui war, and his hopes and dreams when they were at Shoka Sonjuku. Gintoki already knows most of what he's listening to, having been there to witness it, but having these words relayed to him so openly through Takasugi gives them a balming quality, a sense of relief as he realizes they're not as estranged as he thought them to be. And Takasugi seems to be alleviating his conscious as he pours his heart out. Gintoki allows him this, turning deaf to the singing around him and indifferent to the eyes on him, and pays all his attention to the man before him. 

“In your absence, I don't remember a single moment of pure happiness. Sure, there weren't many moments of joy in your presence either but, Gintoki, my time without you was even worse.” Takasugi forms his hand into fist and stares resolutely at the wooden tabletop. “You. You're a very precious part of my life.”

He doesn't speak any more. Gintoki sighs and claps Takasugi's shoulder before emptying his beer bottle into an unused glass next to Takasugi's hand. 

“Cheers,” says Gintoki. 

 

Whenever they run into each other after that, there are snide remarks and harmless insults but no stifling tension between. The next time they meet up with Sakamoto and Zura, it's Gintoki who chooses a seat next to Takasugi.

They're at a traditional restaurant, seated around a table set for four. The dinner platters have been emptied out but the bottles of _Dom Perignon_ are still running. Sakamoto is half-sprawled on the floor and half-lounging on Zura, who's long given up on making Sakamoto sit up properly and is slouching over the table himself. Somewhere between the jokes and the teasing and having his arm twisted for trying to steal Takasugi's food, Gintoki finds himself becoming a pillow as Takasugi leans artlessly against Gintoki's shoulder. He throws an arm casually around Takasugi's neck as he preaches the room about the correct way of eating taiyaki. His fingertips absentmindedly trace little circles on Takasugi's skin, making the other shiver pleasantly. 

“You all right, Takasugi? Your face looks funny,” says Gintoki, his hand slipping further inside Takasugi's yukata. 

Takasugi places his glass of alcohol down and whispers in Gintoki's ear. 

“It burns, Gintoki. Burns everywhere we touch.” His speech is surprisingly clear. 

“That so?” Gintoki smiles as Takasugi nuzzles his neck. “Then shouldn't you be jerking away instead of snuggling closer?” 

Takasugi looks too sated to come up with a snarky reply. Gintoki's hand lies flat against his chest and lightly pulls him close until his head is resting on Gintoki's shoulder. He combs his fingers through the dark locks and Takasugi sighs in contentment. 

“Go t'sleep,” says Gintoki and Takasugi's eyes fall shut. 

Gintoki looks at Takasugi's half-full glass of champagne and wonders about the source of Takasugi's fatigue. He had been working hard earlier in the day on the necessary arrangements for restoring their old school, Shoka Sonjuku, maybe that is the real cause of his drowsy state and maybe he didn't consume as much liquor as Gintoki thinks. 

Maybe Takasugi was showing him affection on his own accord. What a thought. Gintoki picks up Takasugi's abandoned glass and gulps down the contents. 

 

It's a handsome spring day and the Yorozuya members are taking a break which they very much cannot afford. Shinpachi and Kagura are bickering because Shinpachi is carrying a lot of load and Kagura will not let him put anything on Sadaharu, because “Sadaharu is not your slave!” 

“Oh, yes, I forgot; I'm the slave here,” says Shinpachi with contempt while glaring at Gintoki, who's busy picking his nose. “Do you mind carrying some of this stuff?!” 

“Geez, you guys are so loud,” says Gintoki, picking his ear with his pinky finger now, “you'll ruin the cherry blossom watching mood for everyone. And what're you carrying all those empty baskets and coolers for, Pattsuan?” 

“They're not empty! I packed food for everyone!” 

“Really?” Gintoki turns to look at him. “I didn't know we had this much food--”

“No, your kitchen is empty,” explains Kagura, lounging on Sadaharu, and talks over Gintoki's 'All thanks to you' retort. “We had help from _Baba_.” 

“That old bat,” mutters Gintoki. “She's going to charge me for it.” 

Gintoki reaches back to take the smallest thermos from Shinpachi and walks on ahead, ignoring Shinpachi's indignant scolding. 

Fully bloomed trees line up on his either side, forming a pink, cloud-like archway over him. The breath-taking sight doesn't get old no matter how many times they see it. The charm, Gintoki thinks, lies it the blossoms' ephemeral nature. Otherwise people would quickly get bored. Anything in abundance is sure to become a bother. Same applies to human company. 

But as Sadaharu, Kagura, and Shinpachi rush past him to search for good spots beneath the trees, Gintoki speculates that there might be an exception to a select few whose presence is always welcome. 

People come and go in life. Some leave and never come back. Some come in and never leave. And then there are some, thinks Gintoki, finding Takasugi seated leaning on a tree bark, that leave but then come back. 

“Yo,” greets Gintoki. “Care to share some of that sake with a penniless passerby?”

The hands uncorking the flask still and Takasugi, who seems to by himself, turns to look at Gintoki. 

“Absolutely not,” he refuses, yet there's a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But there is room for a shameless friend.” 

_Friend_. 

Gintoki wonders how many cups of sake he's consumed to be able to use that word for him. By the looks of it – the empty cup and the sealed flask – none. Will wonders never cease. 

Gintoki turns to call out to Kagura and Shinpachi, before sitting down next to Takasugi. He crosses his legs and lets his knee rest on Takasugi's thigh, who fills them a cup each.

They talk more than they drink this time, and Gintoki feels he could get used to this. The honesty, the clarity, and the hand slipping in his. 

Not bad at all. 

 

~*~


End file.
